Kidnapped!
by Anya Catalyn
Summary: Strolling into an inn, the gang meets two girls who want to learn how to be outlaws. But will love create a conflict? *CHAPTER FOUR UP!* (Yep, reviews are niiiice.)
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All rights belong to the people who uh. did the movie. ^^ Except for Brooke and Blythe. They are original characters. This story takes place after the set-up at their bank robbery. Jim and Loni never got shot. Jesse and Zee never married. If you don't like that. don't read.  
  
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"Not a bad haul this time, boys!" The ever-infamous outlaw, Jesse James, shouted to his fellow gang members as they rode out of a small town in Arkansas.  
  
Only a year ago had these farm boys returned from the Civil War only to find that the railroad was buying off their land at unfair prices. There wasn't a month that had gone by without a hanging in their community for treason. However, when the houses of the farmers were burnt down, the Yankees had crossed the line and Jesse James had started the James-Younger Gang. Now, they were outlaws always being hunted by the Yanks and always seemed to be one step ahead of them.  
  
"How long do y'all think it'll take them to find us?" questioned Jim Younger, the now sixteen-year-old boy who had come along for the fun and to experience the danger but he had come out of this particular bank robbery with a small gunshot scathe in his shoulder.  
  
Cole Younger let out a hearty laugh before looking over at his brother, "I'm sure it won't be long, little brother. But we can really give em' a run for their money!"  
  
Frank noticed Jim's bloody shoulder and raised an eyebrow, "Nasty battle scar, Jimmy. You wanna find an inn or something to get that treated?"  
  
Looking at his shoulder, Jim shrugged as if he didn't care, "Whatever Jesse thinks, I'll go with."  
  
The dark-haired man grinned at the thought. "I sure could go for a good shot of whiskey. Why not? Let's ride!"  
  
With a flood of hoots, the band of desperados went riding down the dirt hill, the stallions kicking up the dust under their hooves. They were carefree and determined to help the farmers that needed the money to support their land and livestock. This was the true nature of the James- Younger Gang. 


	2. Chapter One

The happy tune from the keys of an old piano was easily heard from outside a saloon as the eight men rode into town. Jesse looked to the wooden building, reading the sign aloud. "The Capulet Inn and Saloon. Why does that sound familiar?"  
  
"Romeo and Juliet," Frank answered, "Shakespeare. We ought to go in, don't you boys agree?"  
  
They all murmured their agreements before dismounting the stallions and tying the reigns up to the log post. Each made sure their guns were at their side in case a bar fight would start up. Strutting inside the bar, they took a quick glance around and found that it was a decent looking place. There were a few drunks just hanging around and flirting with the paid-ladies while others were gambling their latest paycheck. Glancing to each other, Jesse raised his voice so everyone could hear him, "Alright, listen up! This boy here has a little scratch that needs to be treated. Anyone here know how to do something like that?"  
  
Glancing over to the group of men, a young waitress set some empty glasses on the table before jogging up to them. "I'm not to bad at treating wounds. Who has it?"  
  
"Uh. I do," Jim said as he moved a step forward.  
  
The teenaged girl looked over his shoulder before taking his hand, "That'll get infected! Come upstairs and I'll clean it up!"  
  
As she pulled Jim towards the stairs, he glanced over to the others in his gang with a slight grin. They watched the two disappear upstairs before taking their separate ways. Each one spread out to either join in the gambles, talk to the women or buy a few shots of whiskey. Jesse hooked a thumb on his belt as he scanned the busy bar. It looked like he was just about the only person in the facility that wasn't merry-making; be it gambling, drinking, or wenching. He walked slowly to the bar counter, where he saw the prettiest face in the building working. Jesse casually took a seat and propped his elbow on the counter, "Can I get some whiskey, miss?"  
  
The bar wench glanced up at Jesse, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before the brunette smiled politely while putting a lock of hair behind her ear. She turned around and pulled down three shot glasses before setting them in front of the charismatic man. Grabbing a large bottle of whiskey, she poured some of the booze into those glass shots, "There ye' are."  
  
"Thank you kindly, miss," He gulped one shot and slammed the glass on the counter. Jesse paused a moment to let the whiskey sink in, "So, you get this big and happy a crowd every night?"  
  
"Only when they know someone famous strolls into town," She leaned against the counter, a sweet grin on her face, "Like, oh... Jesse James?"  
  
He stopped short with the second glass in his hand, "Those posters really gettin' that good?"  
  
"I just remember faces," She wrinkled her nose before picking up a rag and wiping the counter off.  
  
Jesse thought to himself; she left the field wide open for a smooth compliment, "Well, your face sure is rememberable..."  
  
The waitress stopped wiping the counter when he said this and she looked at him, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks, "Well... Thank you. I s'pose the stories are true about you, then."  
  
He laughed nervously and shifted his position on the barstool, "What stories?"  
  
"Oh, just those ones about you being a smooth talkin' ladies man..." She threw the rag over her shoulder and ran her tapered fingers through her short ponytail.  
  
He laughed more heartily this time and downed another shot in the middle of doing so, "I love those stories rightly, I do. I should read some of 'em sometime."  
  
"Maybe you should..." She arched an eyebrow at him before turning away again and picking up some dusty glasses to clean up.  
  
Jesse stared at his third shot glass while shifting position again, "What'd you say your name was, miss?" He looked up.  
  
She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Brooke Capulet."  
  
"Capulet? Like... that one... Shakeybeard? Shakes..." Jesse scratched his head contemplatively, "Isn't that a name in a play?"  
  
Brooke giggled at his mistakes, "Romeo and Juliet, yes... Shakespeare. One of the greatest playwrights in Old England."  
  
Only anxious to not focus on his tiny education, Jesse waved his hand and changed the topic, "So, you own this inn?"  
  
"My Pa does... My younger sister and I... We work as waitresses when he's busy," She decided that since the drunks were clearing out, she really didn't have to worry about working much for the rest of the night. Pulling a stool up, she sat in front of Jesse and looked him in the eyes.  
  
"It's a mighty fine place, Miss Capulet. One of the happiest places we've stopped by, I'd reckon." Conversation is going smooth... bring it back to a subject he can get lots of compliments in with, "My boys sure seem to be enjoying them paid ladies you've got 'round here."  
  
"Well, its business," She sighed a bit, "Just... business."  
  
A smirk tugged at the side of his mouth, "What was that sigh for, eh? Eh?"  
  
"Ah, it can be a borin' life," Another giggle escaped her, "Well, why are you smilin' like that?"  
  
"To get you to show me your pretty smile, of course, Miss Brooke," His smile broadened, "Why you livin' a borin' life, anyhow?"  
  
"Workin' in a bar every night certainly isn't an exciting life. After our Ma died." She suddenly cut herself off and glanced downward, silently cursing herself for mentioning her beloved mother.  
  
Jesse was caught rather offguard and his gaze flicked to Brooke's downcast eyes. He searched for something to say before placing his hand over her's and speaking genuinely. "I'm sorry."  
  
Brooke looked at their hands and a small smile formed, "It was a long time ago... We all just miss her," Inside, she felt her heart beginning to beat faster and her face grow warm from her slight nervousness.  
  
"How about a few more shots of whiskey?" Jesse suddenly said, "And then you can tell me some more about yourself." 


	3. Chapter Two

Jim sat down on the bed in one of the rooms that the girl had led him into and pulled off his shirt, noting that the wound was deeper than he had thought. It didn't hurt so that wasn't a big problem. He looked back to the black-haired waitress, feeling a slight twinge of nervousness. Blythe was seriously concerned about this boy's wound and wasted no time in gathering bandages and some disinfectant. She set these things on the bed next to Jim and paused to take a good look at the wound. Dust and blood in a deep cut, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Blythe smiled at Jim while she began dabbing his shoulder with a wet rag, "I take it you're Jim Younger, youngest of the James-Younger Gang?"  
  
He winced slightly at the sting but quickly put it out of his mind. "Yeah... How'd you know?"  
  
"The wanted posters are getting better and better, I've been following them. They sure don't do you justice, though," Blythe began applying the disinfectant.  
  
"You wouldn't tell the sheriff about us being here, would you?" Jim looked at her then to his shoulder.  
  
She laughed lightly, continuing to dab his shoulder, "Of course not, I regard the James-Younger Gang as heroes. I'm 'bout ready to faint, just treating a wound of Jim Younger himself. Everybody here feels the same," Blythe then began unrolling a roll of cloth bandage.  
  
"I'll take your word for it, then..." He smiled at her, "Well, you may know my name but I sure don't know yours."  
  
Blythe smiled again, this time slowly and gently wrapping the bandage across Jim's chest and back then over the shoulder wound, "I'm Blythe Capulet, my daddy owns this inn. Pleased to meet you, Jim!"  
  
"Your pa owns the inn?" He raised his eyebrows in interest, "Then no wonder you work here! Normally, I don't see girls your age working as a waitress."  
  
Blythe's expression turned flat and it was clear Jim had struck a nerve. "I am fifteen, you know. Ain't nothin' wrong with a fifteen-year-old workin' as a waitress..." She realized the rude tone she was taking and then tried to make up for it somehow, "I mean, y'know, no reason for a young woman to suffer age discretion."  
  
Jim held his hands up in a defensive manner, chuckling a bit nervously. "I'm sorry... I really do know how it feels with age dis.creation..."  
  
She made a face and chuckled with him, "Nah, nah, I'm sorry, you caught me gettin' all defensive. It's my nerve, y'know. I been treated like a lil' kid all my life,"  
  
Blythe finally finished bandaging his wound and sealed the end. She took a seat next to Jim on the bed, "People judge you cause o' your age, Jim?" She looked confused and disbelieving at the same time.  
  
"Yea'..." Jim frowned and glanced at the ground for a moment, "Always treatin' me like the baby of the gang. I jus' gotta prove to them that I'm old enough to do anything they can."  
  
"Prove to them?" Blythe rubbed the bandage on his back, "That's one o' the deepest flesh wounds I've seen and you took it like it wasn't there."  
  
"Ah, it was nuthin'..." Jim shrugged his shoulders, "Why, we all get shot at during one robbery or another. Guess it was my turn," He laughed a bit.  
  
Blythe's face melted into daydreams, "What a life... robbin' banks, gettin' shot at, seeing your face all over Wanted posters..." She then stared at her lap, "I been locked up in this inn all my life. I couldn't imagine what fun it would be."  
  
Jim frowned for a moment, thinking about what she said; "I have to admit... I'm having the time of my life but there's a lot of problems, too. Y'see... My brother, Cole, and my cousin, Jesse, argue a lot..."  
  
"What is there to argue about? Loot shares?" She leaned forward, placed her elbows on her knees, and rested her head on her hands at a tilt so that she could still see Jim's face.  
  
"Some of that... Cole's a bit temperamental and he always wants things done his way. But Jesse's got that leadership quality, y'know? Kinda fighting for who gets to make the decisions..."  
  
"Fighting over decisions to decide who gets to make decisions? That makes sense..." She nodded slightly, "What decisions do they let you make?"  
  
Jim let out a sarcastic laugh. "None of em', Blythe... None. Normally they just tell me to shut my mouth and not worry about it."  
  
"Tell you to shut your mouth?" She drew herself to her full sitting height, "Why would they do that? They a bunch of fools?"  
  
"In my position, my opinion don't count. But then again... I've grown used to it," Jim looked at her kindly before turning his attention to the open door, "Seems its quieted downstairs..."  
  
"Shame. Darn shame," She shook her head, staring straight ahead, in thought. After a moment, her gaze returned to Jim, "You wanna go back downstairs? I, the doctor, hereby authorize you, the patient, to do so."  
  
"Not a bad idea..." He rose to his feet and held his hand out to Blythe.  
  
She nimbly placed her hand in his hand and rose with his assistance, lifting his shirt from the bed with her free hand, "Not that any of us would mind you walkin' 'round shirtless, but it gets cold."  
  
Blythe laughed and skip-jogged out of the room teasingly, turning once to assure herself that Jim was following. Jim laughed nervously in his embarrassment before he slipped his shirt on again and followed after her. 


	4. Chapter Three

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews so far! I'm pretty pleased that this story started the "American Outlaws" category. Yaaaay! Please keep reviewing and I'll keep writing! ^^  
  
As the two teens came down the stairs, side by side, Jim took a quick glance at his fellow gang members to see what they were up to. Seven of them were in a serious poker game. He could tell by the way that they were hunched over their cards and looking at each other. But where was Jesse? His crystal blue eyes averted to the bar where he saw his cousin in a deep conversation with a brunette whom was sitting on the other side of the counter. Both were smiling at each other and there was only about seven shots of whiskey beside Jesse and four of them were full. So, he obviously wasn't drunk. During this whole time, Jesse was feeling much closer to Brooke after their discussion about their deceased mothers, among other things. He wasn't one to get very drunk, so he decided to abandon his whiskey and scan the room for something him and Brooke could join in on, "Ah, looks like your little sister has fixed Jim up real good."  
  
"She's a miracle worker, that's for sure," Brooke nodded, a proud expression on her face.  
  
"A miracle worker, eh? Jim told me it was just a scratch," He grinned.  
  
"She's seen worse," She leaned a bit closer, her nose almost touching his as she said this, "Then again... She is the smarter one of our family." Jesse laughed heartily, again, at this and returned to almost touching noses with Brooke, smirking stupidly, "If what you say about yourself is true, that's something we have in common."  
  
Blythe stopped on the last step. "It looks as if we have a spot of trouble, Jim." "Whaddya talkin' about?" His gaze averted to Blythe.  
  
"But of course Jim, we have a serious problem at hand!" She began laying on the drama, "Poker, drinks, conversation..." Blythe leaned against Jim, the back of her hand against her forehead, "Whatever are we to do?"  
  
Jim's nervousness started up again and he looked down at Blythe, "You drink...?"  
  
"Just sassafras, of course! That alcohol stuff is nasty, wouldn't you say?"  
  
"Well, um... I suppose it is," Jim wasn't about to admit that last time he drank whiskey, he had to throw it all up, "Can I buy you a drink?"  
  
"Silly, I work here. Drinks are on the house!" Blythe grabbed Jim's wrist lightly and led him across the room to the bar, taking a seat next to Jesse and motioning for Jim to sit next to her.  
  
Jesse turned his stool slightly to face Jim and Blythe, "Hey little buddy and little buddy's friend who is also the buddy of this here larger buddy! I hope you didn't come over here expectin' some whiskey, Jim."  
  
"No siree, Jesse James, no whiskey for us!" Blythe announced with a wide smirk. Jim looked over to Brooke, wondering what was going through her mind... What she thought of Blythe getting so close to him. However, Brook only gave Jim a kind look before standing up straight with a smile, "The usual, Blythe?"  
  
"Of course," replied the younger sibling.  
  
"H-Howdy, Jesse," Jim finally said and grinned at his cousin, "You never cease to get a moment in with a pretty girl at the bar, do you?"  
  
"By the looks of it, neither do you," Jesse grinned teasingly and Jim rolled his eyes at Jesse as a reply.  
  
"Here you go, you two," Brooke interrupted the two boys by setting a bottle of sassafras in front of Blythe and Jim, "Did y'all behave in that room?"  
  
Uncharacteristically, Blythe blushed slightly and played with the rim of her drink cup, "I just put a bandage on the poor boy, Brooke. Why you gotta go and say somethin' like that?" "Cause' I'm your sister. I need neither rhyme nor reason to tease y'all," Brooke retorted but then smiled mischievously.  
  
"I've taught Jim well, no worries to be had about it, Brooke," Jesse reached over Blythe to rustle Jim's hair. Jim shoved Jesse's arm away and frowned, "Yeah, yeah..."  
  
Until the early hours of the morning, the two cousins stayed at the bar, engaging in conversation with the Capulet sisters. Each one had their own story to tell, whether it be of robbing backs or throwing out aggressive drunks. Brooke had kept the sassafras out for the four of them and none in the mood for drinking any more whiskey. The other customers had cleared out and left them all alone. It was like they had strayed into a dream.  
  
The grandfather clock in the upstairs hall could be heard, the bell chiming three times and this caused them to fall silent for a moment. Blythe politely covered a yawn; "You boys ever have a bedtime in the job of outlawing?"  
  
Jim laughed at the sound of this, "Bedtime? Us?"  
  
"Quit glorifying the life, Jim. We tuck you in every night at seven sharp and you know it," Jesse nudged Jim in the ribs with his elbow.  
  
"Well, I do suggest a bit of sleep before dawn comes..." Brooke said as she cleared off the empty sassafras bottles and shot glasses and Blythe naturally helped her sister clear the table, so between the two, it was a minimal chore.  
  
"Anyhow, I saw a yawn escape that mouth of yours earlier, Jim," Blythe grinned, "The rest of your crowd was on to something smart-like when they chose to sleep."  
  
Looking over to Jesse, Jim raised his eyebrows, "But... aren't we supposed to leave at dawn?"  
  
"Yep, so we best sleep fast. Are there any rooms left, after my cousins got their pick, Brooke?"  
  
Glancing to the charismatic outlaw, Brooke nodded once. Her voice had changed into a slightly colder tone, "I'm sure there is..."  
  
"Whoa! Brooke, sis, you're soundin' evil on us there. Did Jesse give you the wrong look?" Blythe hitched arms with her older sister and started leading her towards the stairwell.  
  
"Whaddya mean by that?!" Brooke's cheeks began to turn rosy.  
  
"I dunno, what'd ya mean by the voice change?" She blinked rather obliviously at Brooke.  
  
"Get up there!" Brooke gave her sister a hard but playful shove up the rest of the stairs before following her, "Go find a room..." 


	5. Chapter Four

Jesse lay awake the next morning, staring at the ceiling pensively. The weak sunbeams on the window told him it was about time to wake the others and set out but... they had been shown so much hospitality here at the Capulet Inn. The outlaws' morals were sky high after their festive evening of merrymaking downstairs, and to leave it all behind without any knowledge of where they were to sleep next seemed rather foolish. Jesse would miss Brooke, this he knew. But with a sigh, he rose from his comfortable bunk and shuffled over to Jim's bed to start waking the James-Younger Gang. Jim let out a groan as Jesse tried to get him up and as punishment, he threw his pillow at his cousin before pulling the covers over his head. Two hours of sleep... But Blythe had been worth it all.  
  
"Brooke, can you get Crikket's saddle from the tack room?" Blythe called to her sister from within a stable.  
  
Brooke ran a hand through her hair with a tired yawn before nodding to her sister and going towards the tack room. As she opened the door, her eyes searched for the mare's proper saddle. "Ah, here it is!" The brunette said to herself as she picked up the saddle.  
  
"Thank you kindly, sis." Blythe paused momentarily as she waited for the saddle to reach her, then accepted it with a nod. "So, you really think they'll mind us joining them?" She asked, tightening the saddle onto her palomino mare.  
  
"I'm not exactly sure about that..." Brooke replied with a shrug.  
  
"What's this?" A familiar voice called from the other side of the stables.  
  
Jesse, followed by Jim, Cole and the others, approached Brooke and Blythe with smiles, assuming the girls were only preparing their horses for them. The outlaws had no idea. Turning her head to the direction the voice came from, Brooke grinned, "Just loading up these 'ere horses."  
  
Blythe led Crikket halfway out of her stall, now that she was saddled up and ready. "Good morning, boys!" She smiled sweetly and curtsied at the gang, "I trust you slept well."  
  
"As luck would have it, we did..." Jim said with his own smile.  
  
"And as more luck would have it, Brooke and I did as well. So we're all ready to head out, right sis?" She asked with a turn to face the one that she addressed.  
  
"Hold on a minute!" Cole took a step forward, looking at both Blythe and Brooke. "What do you mean by 'heading out'?"  
  
"Did we talk about this, you two?" Jesse raised a confused eyebrow.  
  
With a short moment of hesitation, Brooke sighed a bit before explaining. "Not exactly... You made the life of an outlaw sound so wonderful that Blythe and I... We decided to..."  
  
"That is... we..." Blythe tried to finish for her sister.  
  
Cole scowled, "You think you're coming with us?"  
  
"Why Cole, that's the best idea I've heard in ages!" Her grin reached from ear to ear as she did an excited hop-skip towards the boys.  
  
"I didn't say that!" Cole protested with a growl, "There's NO way I'm letting to women come with us!"  
  
Brooke chuckled to herself while stroking Crikket's neck, deciding to stay out of it for the moment. She glanced at Jesse and Jim, wondering what was going through their minds. Although he was a bit surprised, Jim couldn't exactly say he didn't want Blythe coming with them. In fact, nothing would make him happier. Blythe wasn't worried about what Jim and Jesse would think, though they were being suspiciously quiet, so she moved slowly to Cole's side and clung to his arm. She gazed with those puppy-dog eyes up at Cole. "Oh Cole... you couldn't refuse the Capulet sisters their fondest wish, could you?"  
  
"I can and I will!" Cole yanked his arm away, turning to the rest of the gang; "They'll slow us down. They have no idea what it's like livin' the way we do!"  
  
Tom appealed to Brooke. "Miss, it really is harder living our life than Jesse made it seem, I'm sure. Young ladies like yourselves ain't cut out to live as an outlaw."  
  
Jesse interrupted Tom. "Come now, it's just a little sleeping on the ground, some long trail rides, and a bit o' tricky bank robberies. But ain't none of it dangerous! Don't we owe these fine ladies for their hospitality?"  
  
The Indian lifted his hand to his chin in contemplation but decided to say nothing.  
  
"I think Jesse has a point..." Jim began.  
  
Blythe nodded at Jim. "And Cole, you'd have to be a fool to think me an' Brooke ain't tough."  
  
Cole gave in, looking at the ground for a moment before turning his attention to Brooke and Blythe. "Fine... But if anything that goes wrong is related to you two, you're out."  
  
Jesse anxiously tried to remove Cole's doubts. "Jim 'n I'll watch over 'em, won't we Jim?"  
  
The sixteen-year-old nodded in agreement and Cole spoke in a low tone at this, "Then I'll leave the blame for you, cousin."  
  
"Great! Thank you kindly, sir Cole!" Blythe gave him a big hug before he could object, and ran towards Crikket's stall. She nearly tripped on her parted riding skirts, but the teenager made it to her mare in one piece despite all her excitement. "Brooke and I have saddled up all your horses, packs and all, and even refreshed them stores of food and water you had. So we're all set, boys!"  
  
Cole exchanged glances with the rest of the men before moving over to where his chestnut stallion was and mounting him. It was plain in his eyes that he didn't want to have the Capulet sisters tagging along. Quickly jogging over to Jim's own horse, he climbed onto it's back as he looked watched Blythe. Was this actually happening or was it a dream? Yet, throughout all this, Brooke had said nothing. She simply moved over to her stallion, Dakota, and mounted. Each person exchanged glances with each other before Cole shouted out, "Let's ride!"  
  
And there went the ten outlaws, back into a world of running from the law. 


	6. Chapter Five

It had only been an hour since the James-Younger Gang had left the small town, but the girls' disappearance hadn't gone unnoticed. A man around fifty paced back and forth in the Sheriff's office, a worried expression crossed on his face. He looked as though he hadn't slept all night.  
  
"Now, Mr. Capulet. You say that when you got back to the saloon this morning, there were no traces of your girls anywhere?" The sheriff asked, his feet propped up on his desk as he thought this over.  
  
Mr. Capulet looked at him, "Yes! We've been over this a million times! What do you not understand about this, Rigbee?!"  
  
Sheriff Rigbee scowled a bit. "I'm tryin' to get the facts straight. There was word that the Jesse James and his posse came into town for a drink last night. Seein' is that you own the only bar in town, I figure they went there."  
  
"You sayin' that those damn outlaws kidnapped my little girls?"  
  
"That's exactly what I'm sayin', Charles. "  
  
Sighing heavily as he sat down in a chair, Charles Capulet stared at the ground. Rigbee sat forward, clasping his hands together. "I'll tell you what. You want your girls back and I want me a fine reward for helping in the capture of Jesse James. Gimme the money to hire the best tracker there is and I'll make sure the James-Younger Gang gets what's comin' to them."  
  
"You have yourself a deal," Charles said and held out his hand to shake on the bargain.  
  
Sheriff Rigbee smiled in a sly manner and took Charles' hand, shaking it firmly. "I'll send a telegram to all the nearby towns. Don't you worry. Brooke and Blythe is as good as rescued." 


End file.
